Colours
by Soundless Reverie
Summary: Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet. Black. White. The colours of Fubuki Shirou's life. Slight NSFW content and overloading with Goufubu fluff.


**Riiiiiiiiight. Exams + social pressure + cutting = me going insane.**

**Forgive me for deleting my two Chinese fics and my two OC fics, Snowy Dreams and Revival Kiss. (They weren't any good anyways. But hey check out my best friend LoveMoreNatalya for an awesome Chinese Burn x Gazelle fic bursting with cute scenes!)**

**Well. I'm back at the moment, with one new oneshot. Yep. Fubuki centric again. And one of the sections may contain some mature content, but I wasn't really explicit with it, so this will still be in the T rated section for now. Tell me if you think I should push it up to M rated, okay? Thank you~**

**I'll be uploading a new story soon, and I'm going to update Wolf Week as soon as I can. Kill the exams. Not me.**

**I don't own Inazuma Eleven, or any of its characters. They all rightfully belong to Level 5, and I'm not writing to gain any profit.**

**Let us begin. With… red.**

Red.

Blood.

It wasn't the first time Fubuki cut himself. He didn't gasp in pain, but let a crazed smile spread across his face as he plunged the cutter into his pale left arm for the third time that evening. In no time, the towel he'd laid out on his lap as stained red with his blood.

OoOoOoOoO

Orange.

Sunset.

Fubuki had always loved sunsets. But he loved them even more now, ever since Gouenji had proposed to him at the Raimon Steel Tower Plaza after the Holy Road Finals, the whole place drowned in the rich orange of the setting sun. There can't possibly be a more romantic proposal, Fubuki reflected later.

OoOoOoOoO

Yellow.

Primroses.

Yellow primroses had always been Fubuki's favourite flower, but he'd never told anyone. So that's why he was more than surprised when Gouenji presented him with a bouquet of those delicate yellow flowers on Valentine's day, claming that he thought he'd like them. It was more like mind troll to Fubuki.

OoOoOoOoO

Green.

Eyes.

Sometimes, he liked standing in front of the mirror as he reverted Atsuya's personality back to his own. That brief moment when his eyes melted from gold back to their normal green, had always fascinated him to no end.

OoOoOoOoO

Blue.

Ink.

Fubuki and Gouenji had the habit of writing each other notes, or letters, as they'd call it. They'd just slip it into the latter's hand at breakfast, perhaps, or at dinner, quickly, quietly, so no other members of Inazuma Japan would see. And they had this weird colour issue: Gouenji always wrote in orange, and Fubuki always replied in blue.

OoOoOoOoO

Indigo.

Bliss.

Gouenji's thrusting into him, hard and fast. They were both panting, gasping, groaning occasionally, at each respective sensation of their lovemaking, so different, yet carrying out the same passion. Release is almost upon him, and Fubuki threw back his head, crying out before he was thrown off the edge, into bliss that was a hazy indigo before his blurred vision.

OoOoOoOoO

Violet.

Meteorite.

Everyone was frozen to their spots when Kazemaru smirked, fishing out his necklace from inside the tight bodysuit he wore. At the end of the fine silver chains, was a small purple crystal. Violet light pulsed from it, and Fubuki found the urge to turn away from the violet Aliea Meteorite, which was radiating pure evilness.

OoOoOoOoO

Black.

Scarf.

Gouenji met up with Fubuki under the bridge at the Riverbank the next day after the Holy Road Finals, and the first thing Fubuki said was, "Why aren't you wearing your black scarf anymore? I liked it!" Gouenji just doubled up laughing, and Fubuki couldn't help but laugh along with his boyfriend.

OoOoOoOoO

White.

Snowstorm.

Cradling a mug of hot Horlicks, Fubuki stared out at the raging snowstorm outside the warmth and safely of his house. There wasn't really anything he could make out clearly, just flurries of white, swirling through the cold air. Then he suddenly remembered that his given name, "Fubuki Shirou", meant "white snowstorm".

OoOoOoOoO

Perhaps, the colour that had always been with him was white.

After all, he was named Fubuki Shirou.

White snowstorm.

End

**Who expected the idea of the Colours of Fubuki Shirou's Life came from Black Rock Shooter? And I have no idea why this fic was born in the toilet. OTL**

**Okay people thank you for reading and please review to tell me how I can improve~ Thank you again and I love you all.**

**For more information and updates of my progresses on Fanfics and fanarts, feel free to visit my Tumbr bookworm868(.)tumblr(.)com~**


End file.
